


Team Spirit

by RainbowArches



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Asexual Aromantic Characters, Gen, I Believe in Jasper Sitwell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 02:56:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3274127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowArches/pseuds/RainbowArches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akela has some trouble with this concept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team Spirit

All she did was foil a shoplifting attempt. It wasn’t the first time, nor was it the most exciting crime she’d put a stop to, even after she learned he was on Shield’s hit list and the crime she stopped was much bigger than shoplifting. Agent Coulson was trying to make her feel impressed with herself, trying to draw her in. It wasn’t working. Like she said, it wasn’t the first time. She hung out in rough neighbourhoods and dark alleys and kept them safe, for the adrenaline rush, at first. She watched too much T.V., that was the problem. She like being a nameless do-gooder, helping out without thanks or credit. But she watched the crime rates go down in areas she’d visited a few times, and this hobby of her became a thing she had to do, because _someone_ had to do it. Not for thrills, but because it was good for people. She was a security guard now, even when she wasn’t wearing the uniform.

But Coulson was impressed; said Shield had noticed her and could use her help. Imagine the difference she could make with a team and some formal training. Half of that proposal appealed to her, the other half sounded like a nuisance. How was she supposed to get anything done if she had a team to worry about? But she liked Shield’s motto, and she was tired of doing all her shopping at dollar stores.

 

She liked exertion. She liked the ache and the tiredness and the bruises after laps or a sparring session or a round with a punching bag. It kept her focused, sharp, balanced. It didn’t make her cranky like it did others. She got cranky if she _didn’t_ train. She got stressed and lost sleep and ruined her appetite if she wasn’t active. She couldn’t think when she had nothing to do. The longer she sat still the more her brain tangled like yarn. It drove her teachers up the wall when she wouldn’t just _stay in her seat and listen._ Coulson knew she wouldn’t thrive behind a desk so he didn’t stick her in one. “You’re not the only one who thinks with their whole body,” he said. She’d seen Morse attest to that. She could solve a problem faster than anyone as long as you didn’t take her batons away.

Akela was almost as quick as Morse, but not nearly as good with teams. Akela hated teams. They were too much to keep track of, they didn’t think the way she did, she had to communicate every move with them and they didn’t always listen. It was so much easier to figure out the problem and deal with it on her own. Easier and quicker. But Coulson insisted that if she’d just be patient she’d work beautifully on a team. Might even command one. There was just no reasoning with that man.

 

Akela wasn’t patient. She was efficient. She was tough. She was smart. She was stubborn. And she was usually right.

“You’re an excellent field agent. One of the best. But you need to learn to accommodate other people.”

She did accommodate other people. She accommodated Coulson. She took their mentorship seriously; she valued his friendship; she watched; she listened; learned. That didn’t mean his word was gospel. That didn’t mean she agreed with everything he said. And she certainly didn’t appreciate his attempts to force team spirit into her.

“I think these rookies could learn a lot from you. They’re missing a great opportunity when you refuse to work with them.”

She didn’t want that responsibility just yet. It was usually at that point in the argument when she’d roll her eyes and take Jasper to lunch. He was a slightly easier accommodation.

 

“He has a point, you know. We could use more agents with your talent, but you have to share with the class.”

“I’m not a teacher.”

“Neither am I. Doesn’t mean I haven’t turned out a few good agents in my time.”

“Yeah, but you like having babies around.”

“You’re the first to stick your neck out for a stranger but you won’t teach a kid a few tricks. I don’t get that.”

“It’s different taking five minutes to help someone I’ll never see again. I don’t want to be responsible for a team. That’s more trouble than I signed on for.”

“But you _are_ responsible, whether you believe in teamwork or not. That’s what Shield means.”

“Why can’t I be responsible the way I know how?”

“Who’s saying you can’t?”

“Everyone!”

“Eat your fries.”

 

Word about Deputy Director Hill got around fast. The youngest ever to climb that high. Coulson introduced them, hoping Akela would be inspired.

“I thought you’d be…”

“Male?”

“Older.”

Yeah, youngest ever; she heard. But everyone kept conjuring images of a macho librarian, with their descriptions of the strict boisterous commander. This kid looked like a closeted comedian. She was about Coulson’s size, smiled a lot, talked to her like an equal. No-nonsense, sure, but not mean like she expected.

Maria didn’t like teams either and avoided them when she could, which Akela was pleased to hear.

“But I need to know my people. I need to know the strengths and weaknesses of my agents and I need to know how to lead them. I can’t learn any of that if I never work with a team. So suck it up. Eventually you’ll get to boss them around; that’s always fun.”

Akela was a little disheartened, but look at Maria. Look how far she got and how fast she got there. Akela wanted that, so suck it up she would.

 

Teams sucked. It didn’t matter that it was for the greater good, that it was to meet a bigger goal; teams were hard. She had to find something for everyone to do that played to their individual strengths, she had to get them to listen to her and cooperate with each other, she had to keep them safe. It was too much stress. But she kept at it. She was responsible, team or no team.

 

She hadn’t expected the water bed, though now she thought about it, it was very Maria.

It was a great de-stressor, if you didn’t get sea sick, lying on fish quilts and a squishy, swaying mattress. She closed her eyes, sprawled out on the bed in her underwear, her arms stretched towards the headboard until her fingers brushed Maria’s. That was all they ever did on her bed. They rested their eyes and meditated. They didn’t even talk. They chattered incessantly anywhere else, but not here.

Coulson seemed to think there was more going on, and warned them to be careful and keep their heads in the game. They told him it wouldn’t be a problem; it would _never_ be a problem. With anyone. Ever. He raised his eyebrows but didn’t pry further.

 

Akela liked teams, she decided. She and Maria had been a team of sorts. They were emotional support for each other. They picked each other up and got each other ready for another day.

She and Jasper had been a team. They reassured each other; they talked personal stuff out; they were each other’s sounding boards.

She and Coulson had been a team. They built each other up. They learned from each other and made each other stronger.

If only she had applied that sooner.

 

 

She got a fair trial, as promised. Coulson actually hugged her when it was all over. She didn’t like hugs, and she’d didn’t remember Coulson as being a fan of them either, but she allowed it this once. It had been too long since she’d had any physical human contact it actually felt nice.

“You didn’t have to pull any strings, did you?”

“Nope,” said Jasper. “Just testified honestly. Still, it was a close call. We need you now more than ever.”

She was to stay at Maria’s apartment for a while. She wondered if the water bed was still there. She was craving a good water bed. She needed to feel safely back in the clutches of her team.


End file.
